


Ink

by myvibraniumheart



Category: B.A.P, Block B
Genre: Angst, Arranged Marriage, Cheating, Drama, Friends With Benefits, M/M, Romance, Sex
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-25
Updated: 2016-12-18
Packaged: 2018-05-09 06:47:25
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 4
Words: 8,448
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5529908
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/myvibraniumheart/pseuds/myvibraniumheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>"No one has to know what we do."</p><p>He was fine with that before. But when did that change?</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Stranger

The steam of alcohol and writhing bodies hang thick in the air as Yukwon and his friends entered the club, heading to the dance floor before anything else. The party was in full swing, and the drinks can wait. A few of his friends had broken off of the group to get their fill of liquor while he and an old friend, Kyung, ended up with the crowd near the bar.

Kyung pulled him close, dancing comfortably together. The waves of their bodies came naturally; graceful in their movements. After dancing a while Yukwon felt a sensation at the back of his neck, and whipping his head around he was surprised to meet the eyes of a stranger from the end of the bar, his gaze piercing, the other half of his face hidden as he took a sip of his drink.

He gave him an inviting smile, and his friend immediately took notice – “Looks dangerous,” murmured Kyung, to which Yukwon barked out a laugh. It was just what he wanted, the thrill. Yukwon felt the handsome gentleman’s gaze unwavering, and a shot of heat travelled down his spine. He kept his eyes on the stranger as he moved his body, waiting for him –

“I know that look,” his friend added with a derisive snort, but he could barely hear him over the thrum of the bass, sparing him a glance, as if to say, He’s mine, I found him first, and looking back at the alluring man – only to find him gone from his seat.

“Damn it, he’s gone,” Yukwon cursed, suddenly not feeling like dancing anymore as the music shifted. Sweat dribbled down the side of his neck and his shirt was nearly sticking to his skin. He turned back to Kyung, who had suddenly disappeared, and instead –

“He’s here,” said a foreign voice, deep and velvety in his ear, his warm hands grazing his waist, pulling him flush against the other’s back. A smile painted itself on Yukwon’s lips as he looked at him up close, turning his body slightly; he had the most gorgeous eyes and his hair was slicked back, looking delightful in a white shirt under a leather jacket.

“Hi,” he replied with an easy smile, and looking back, he wished he didn’t seem so eager. The stranger’s lips twitched, entertained, Yukwon supposed, but he can tell that his eyes were guarded – but that was alright. He won’t see him again after tonight, and his blood pumped with anticipation. Without hesitation, he curled his arm around the stranger’s neck, pulling him close – you’re mine for the night. “Name’s Yukwon.”

“Daehyun. It’s a pleasure,” the other said, and he smiled as another song played, pressing closer as they swayed to the rhythm.

He was an excellent dancer. Dimly, Yukwon wondered why he was lurking at the bar when he should be doing this (preferably with him). It could be the cliché predator stalks prey, which was when he decided that it was time for more dancing and less thinking.

Mere minutes on and the air seemed to be hotter, his breathing got faster; he felt his hands on his hips, their bodies touching in unspeakable places, so close he could hear his breath in his ear and get his scent. Daehyun took his wrist, and seemingly feeling his treasured tattoo there, he raised his arm to take a look, even in the bright, colored lights.

His lips touched his skin, the most innocent of kisses, and he was burning, burning.

“While I breathe, I hope,” Daehyun read, his voice drowned out by the melody, but Yukwon heard him in perfect clarity. Dum spiro, spero, his tattoo said. Yukwon twisted himself to face him, licking his parched lips. He’s aching. He wanted him. This close, he saw the desire in Daehyun’s eyes, but it was ringed with hesitation. He recognized the signs immediately, especially when Daehyun started, “I...“

“No one has to know what we do,” Yukwon assured him, impulsively, carding his fingers through his hair, and pulling him closer to his lips. He’ll forget about him tomorrow, that’s for sure, and he tried not to feel anything. This wasn’t something that’s lasting.

Daehyun gave him a grateful look, and with a smile met his lips, and it was better than he’d imagined. He tasted like his whiskey and cigarettes.

-

Daehyun was pushing him against the wall of his apartment, his hands in his hair and his clothes strewn all over his room. He could barely see, which was a shame – he didn’t get the chance to turn the lights on and he can’t see his body properly. But then, Daehyun’s body was heated against his, finally, and Yukwon gasped as he was bared open to him, all of him for Daehyun to take.

It was just like his many nights before.

He wondered if he would wake up alone this time.

-

He isn’t surprised to find the other side of the bed cold, his room empty, discarded clothes from last night nowhere to be seen.

The only thing that seemed to have changed in his bedroom was the piece of paper lying beside the night lamp, and Yukwon reaches out to read it.

“Say you’ll remember me,” it said in a neat scrawl, a phone number scribbled underneath.

He swallowed. This wasn’t anything like he’d encountered before. He opened his bedside drawer and slipped the note in, rolling onto his side and protecting himself inside the cocoon of his duvet. It’s time to go back to sleep.

-

As predicted, he couldn’t take his mind off those four words. Say you’ll remember me – as if he would forget. His eyes, his lips, his smile when they rode off in his sleek, Ducati bike, the leather he peeled from his skin and the words that fell from his sinful mouth – he couldn’t forget. He still felt his hands on his hips (there were marks) and he groans into his bowl of cereal, like it was going to produce a sure response if he should call Daehyun or not.

What was he even supposed to say? Hey, come over? I want to see you again. Preferably in my bed –

“No,” he grumbled, suddenly not wanting to eat anymore and locking himself in his room to relieve himself.

This would have to do for now.

-

This time of night, he didn’t think anyone would bother to knock. He was falling asleep sprawled on the couch when the knocking got louder, forcing him to get up with a groan, shuffling to the door and opening it to the face that haunted his dreams for the past week and a half.

Daehyun tilted his head, his gaze piercing. “You never called. Did you forget?”

He was stunned. How many nights had he imagined this very moment yet he couldn't move --

Daehyun saved him; pressing himself into his personal space without any warning, he moulded their lips together in a deep kiss. He moaned, cursing himself as his knees turned weak. God, this man could kiss. "Don't you want me anymore?" The other murmured into his mouth, barely a breath, and he didn't wait for Yukwon to answer as he manoeuvred him to his bedroom, slamming the door shut with his hand.

He was thrown onto his bed and Daehyun was hovering over him, kissing his jaw before he managed to speak, bravely albeit stupidly, "What if I don't?" Somehow, he felt his hands holding onto Daehyun's back and pressing him closer of their own volition, his legs wrapping around him, and now his qualm seemed to be idiotic --

"Your lips lie, but your body doesn't," Daehyun mumbled into his ear in an amused tone, sucking on it and he shivered, heat beginning to travel south. Daehyun held his hips and pressed them into the mattress, rolling his hips into Yukwon’s, feeling his already hardened cock grinding against his own. “Maybe you were too busy taking other people home, you little whore?” Yukwon groaned loudly at the lewd words spilling from Daehyun’s mouth, not protesting when his clothes were thrown on the floor.

The heat was too much. He was burning. “Daehyun,” he moaned as the other pinned his wrists above his head. “Hurry.”

Daehyun chuckled, and it was the last sound he heard before he drowned in him again.

-

“Don’t forget.”

-

He didn’t bother calling. Night after night, Daehyun paid him a visit, making him forget who he was and stitching him back into pieces again with his fingers and his lips, along with remnants of him. His body hummed at his touch, like he was a musical instrument drawn taut at the strings, Daehyun’s nimble hands playing him by ear perfectly.

But always, he woke up alone. No notes this time. Occasionally, he woke up with coffee already made in his pot, takeaway breakfast on his table.

At night, they start all over again.

It's not a new relationship for him, but there were little things that endeared him to the mysterious man. He had made an effort to look into him deeper; asking questions, telling him stories about himself, his childhood, his family, and slowly, Yukwon got him to open up a little more. Way into the night, Daehyun humbly talked about his job as a part of a famous company, and despite the rather luxurious way he had presented himself the first time they met, he was simple. He didn’t ask him for anything, except perhaps his time, but he had heard no demands about the bed they’re lying on, the small flat, the apparent lack of food in the cupboards and fridge, given his upbringing. And given his upbringing, he took what he wanted, which Yukwon found all too attractive anyway, so he let him take what he wanted from him.

The routine went on for weeks, and Yukwon was surprised one day when he didn’t wake up alone. His eyes opened to the sight of Daehyun frying eggs on a pan, wearing only his jeans that were unbuttoned, hanging low on his hips. His tattoos were exposed; the dragon that went from his hip up to side, and the Latin phrase at the back of his shoulder, dum vita est spes est, ‘While there’s life, there’s hope’, which he found the first night, matched his own. 

He was even more gorgeous in the morning light that he stifled a soft groan at the image, sitting up on the bed and watching him; the lines of his toned back, the way his hips were canted to the side and his apparent concentration with flipping eggs. “You take your egg-flipping very seriously,” Yukwon noted with an amused tone, Daehyun nearly jumping as he turned his head to look at him, his eyes wide. 

The tips of his ears turned red, and oh, he was lovely. “I was just...” He trailed off, turning off the stove and sliding the slightly deformed scrambled eggs into a plate and placing them on the table. He had a feeling that Daehyun didn’t do that often, and he only ever saw takeaway boxes waiting for him when he came over, but this was...

“Thanks,” Yukwon told him, his voice a bit strangled as his cheeks warmed up at Daehyun’s happy smile. Oh. Oh no.

Yukwon, don’t.

After he saw him making breakfast, Daehyun talked to him a bit more, let him inside those barriers that he might have had with anyone he didn’t trust, and got to know him a little better when he came over every night. Suddenly two plates were set on the dinner table instead of one, two set of toiletries inside his bathroom, and an extra towel hanging beside his.

His days were easier.

And he realized that what he wanted before had just become something that he needed.

-

Yukwon had expected him to arrive every night since then, and he did – except for one. Clutching the old note in his hand, crumpled at the many times he’s held it, but never called, Yukwon waited on the couch, the TV on and flashing the nightly news before the network closed for the night. It was nearing midnight and Daehyun hasn’t knocked, and why was he even waiting? He had no obligation to be there in the first place. Maybe he was busy.

Maybe he thought that Yukwon never wanted him at all because he never called, but internally, he hoped he wasn’t that stupid.

Tucking the note back into its rightful place inside his drawer, he was about to reach for the remote when there was a familiar face flashed on the screen. He was in a pressed suit and tie, his hair tousled and on his arm was a beautiful woman, and Yukwon stared dumb-struck at the television, mumbling, “What...”

...Only son and heir of the Jung Group of Companies, Jung Daehyun, is now engaged to the daughter of the CEO of Song Hwa Group, Song Jihye...

His limbs felt heavy, and there was a rock weighing him down by the chest. He couldn’t move, his eyes fixed on the screen as he watched Daehyun smile politely at the press, coming from what looked like his own engagement party. He bitterly stared at the woman, Song Jihye – what a fit partner for a bachelor like him, was she not?

He can’t take this anymore. Yukwon shut off the television and felt a sense of dread. He’s going to get married...?

He couldn’t believe it.

He’s getting married.

“No...” He found himself saying, frozen on his seat for what felt like hours. Why was he even feeling anything about this? He was nothing but some CEO’s son’s hidden lover – if he was even to be called that. Daehyun had not mentioned anything that would tell him otherwise, but then again, when did he mention anything? 

What else didn’t he know about Jung Daehyun?

Finally, exhaustion set in as his brain seemed to feel fuzzy, and he realized that his cheeks were wet. “Pathetic,” he cursed himself, wiping his eyes with his sleeve and crawling into bed.

When did he ever matter to Daehyun? Why did he think otherwise?

3:05AM. Time to go to sleep.


	2. Say Something

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> "Just... go home."

The note was still untouched. He never called and asked about his fiancée. Yukwon thought that if he didn't mention it or if he avoided the news, the pain would go away. 

He'd always been bad at playing dumb. 

Yukwon opened his door, home from a shift at work, jiggling his keys -- the doorknob was a bit jammed. With a sigh of relief, he toed off his shoes. It had been a long day, and he was spending so much effort in not staying home like there was a ghost waiting to get him. 

Entering his small flat, his heart had almost leapt to his throat as he lifted his eyes to find Daehyun on the couch, immediately standing up to meet him. 

He instinctively took a step back. "Why are you here?" 

"It's not what it seems," Daehyun started, his stance open, eyes earnest. So the bastard knew that he knew. God, who _didn't_ know?

"Save it," Yukwon retorted, tossing his bag on the floor beside the couch in frustration. He didn't think he'd be this angry, ever. Yukwon felt crossed, betrayed. His eyes were fire and his gaze was scalding. "Enlighten me on _why_ ," he saw Daehyun visibly wince when he slammed his fist on the door of his bedroom, " _Why_ you are suddenly engaged -" he stopped himself, slender fingers running over his blonde hair, "You know what? Never mind. Get out. Get the fuck out." 

"She's a family friend of ours-"

"I don't care about your obligations," Yukwon said slowly, anger slipping into each syllable, opening the dresser and taking Daehyun's belongings that stayed there and tossing it to the couch, some items hitting him. Daehyun sighed deeply. Yukwon thought deserved that. "Don't drag me into them." He could swear he heard his own voice shake, and his fists were clenched, refusing to even glance at him. "Leave."

Daehyun stood up and slipped his arms around Yukwon's waist, and the older male stiffened visibly. Daehyun didn't relent, holding him from behind and not letting go. "Please, Yukwon. Just listen..."

It was a second later that Yukwon realized what was happening and he twisted from the younger's grasp, his arm pulling back and landing a punch to Daehyun's jaw. 

The younger groaned and took a step back, his face aching and blood dripped from his mouth. "Fuck," he cursed, looking at the tinge of red as he wiped his lip. 

Yukwon, on the other hand, look horrified, which surprised Daehyun. "Shit," he muttered, running to the bathroom and getting a washcloth, pressing it to Daehyun's lip. With a dejected sigh, he shook his head. He felt stupid. He hated him and now he comes back and he can't hate him. 

Who could hate him?

Daehyun's expression was wary as Yukwon came closer, seeming like he expected another hit -- perhaps with something stronger than his fist this time. "I..."

Yukwon put down the washcloth once Daehyun's lip was cleaned, and he turned his back on him and went back to the sink to rinse it out. Daehyun didn't follow. He still deserved that, Yukwon thought. 

But he wanted him. He wanted to keep him. Yukwon wanted him to choose him over his fiancée. 

Slowly, from the corner of his eye, Daehyun picked up his belongings, fixing them neatly in a pile. Unwarranted fear took over his veins - this was the end, wasn't it?

How do you end something that you haven't actually given a chance to last?

"Yukwon, I..." Daehyun started quietly, his eyes on his lap. "I'm sorry." 

Why did he look so fucking sad? He wasn't allowed to be, Yukwon thought. Daehyun had no promises, and maybe that's a problem. It was. Yukwon liked to think, for once, that he deserved someone who can give him all of him, but Daehyun was not that person. 

Did he deserve such a person, if at all?

"I didn't mean to hurt you." 

Yukwon didn't answer, now sitting on the tiled floor of the bathroom, eyes on the old shower curtain. His cheeks were wet again. He must be out of his mind. "I... I'm sorry, Yukwon." 

It was then that Daehyun stood up and entered the bathroom, his hand reaching out to him. 

“Yukwon…"

“Don’t,” he told him quietly, ducking his head. “Don’t…” There were a million things he wanted to say. _What am I, your hidden whore that you come to whenever you need a fuck, or someone to talk to…? Did you really want me? Why are you still here?_ He remained silent.

“Look at me,” Daehyun said pleadingly. He felt his presence closer to him and before he could react to dodge, he has him caged in his arms. Yukwon wanted to crawl out of his skin but he remained still, his body shaking with sobs that he won’t let go. He wasn’t weak. He wasn’t this weak. 

“It was an arrangement,” Daehyun said hurriedly. “I barely know her, I don’t love her, I-“ 

Yukwon had never felt so small and pathetic. So insignificant. He broke out of his hold and faced him, his eyes brimming with wetness and anger. He didn’t know what else to say except: “Just… go home.” 

“But I…”

Yukwon shook his head rapidly. “Stop.” What if he was lying to him again? What if he was just using him? _Don’t tell me that you love me. Don’t. I can’t take it_ , he wanted to say, but his lips were sealed into a thin line, his nails digging against his palms. He didn’t know what he dreaded more: Daehyun loving him, or Daehyun not feeling a tinge of emotion for him.

“Yukwon, please,” Daehyun kneeled in front of him. “I’ll leave her. I’ll leave her, and we’ll run away together, just don’t – don’t,” Daehyun held his fists together, cupping them with his cold hands. He was shaking so badly, and he almost wanted to scoff. Run away? With him? 

He was nobody.

“Go home,” he muttered, burying his face in his knees and refusing to look at him. 

Daehyun settled between his legs and cupped his face, kissing him. Yukwon stiffened; and he felt his wings burning away, withered by the flames. He sobbed softly. It hurts.    
“I’m sorry,” he murmured in between every kiss. “I’m sorry…”

"Just - just leave me alone," Yukwon said helplessly against Daehyun's lips. He's always been a liar. 

He could still taste him on his tongue and there he was, in the flesh, pressing into him, their bodies touching and their lips locked. His tears were on Daehyun's cheeks and he idly remembered holding onto his lover so, so tightly, never wanting to let go. 

This wasn't supposed to happen. 

He was in bed again, and he had thought that he was stupid, he was crazy, and he would take all of it. Anything to chase away his misery. Daehyun was pressing slow kisses to his aching body. He was on fire. Every cell craved for the younger's touch, his heart hammering a bruise in his chest. 

He would take anything to chase away the pain.

"Please.... Oh, Daehyun, please."

Yukwon's eyes were dried and puffy, but he couldn't seem to stop crying. Daehyun whispered soft words to his skin, apologies, letters of affection, calling to his body once more. They tumbled downhill, a chaotic spiral that he had always wanted, always needed, always craved from him the moment they had met. 

It was unhurried. Yukwon could almost fool himself that Daehyun had been making love to him, to convey the words that he could never say through his every breath, every movement, every touch against Yukwon's heated skin. 

He had betrayed himself. In the end, he had succumbed to the person who he thought had deemed him to be different, to be someone that he also needed. Yukwon had pulled the trigger on himself.  
   
In the aftermath, he lays on Daehyun's chest, the tail of the dragon inked against his arm and hip stark against his golden skin. The moon was full, dimly lighting Yukwon's room as Daehyun slept. Tracing the perfect lines of the dragon with his finger, dread slowly crept closer to Yukwon's chest, reminding him that when the sun rises, Daehyun will not be his. Daehyun would still not be his. 

Would never be his. 

He said he would leave her. It was in his heart of hearts that he wanted to believe. By god, he must be insane. He must be in love with Jung Daehyun, the man who had forced himself into his life, the man who had bothered to get to know him, to be with him, the man who had bothered to stay --

By the gods, he loved him. With every fiber of his being, Yukwon was certain that he did. Instinctively, he pressed against Daehyun's sleeping form closer, as together as they can be. 

He wished daylight would never come.


	3. All Lies

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This had always been the heartbreaking part for him.

Daehyun opened his eyes to find Yukwon curled up beside him, fast asleep.  
  
This had always been the heartbreaking part for him.  
  
He had to tend to his responsibilities. It can never be said that he didn’t fulfill them, or at least, tried to, but somehow he had never come close to his family’s expectations.  
He stroked the familiar tattoo on Yukwon’s wrist. Dum spiro, spero. Daehyun had never failed to touch his lips to markings whenever they see each other. Their matching tattoos may be only coincidental, but it had somehow drawn them closer – emotionally and physically.  
  
The brunette sighed, stirring the air, and the movement causes his lover to press closer. He knew he must have put him through hell, and he was about to drag him back into the deep end. This wasn’t part of the plan. It was only meant to be something to be enjoyed temporarily, not desired permanently.  
  
At night, he blamed himself – he was truly the root of all this trouble. He felt selfish and cruel, to cage someone that he can never be truly with.  
  
-  
  
Daehyun continued to lie to himself through the days.  
  
He tried to be around Yukwon more often, wanting to stick to his promise that he would be staying. He decided to think about the consequences of his actions later, burying them at the back of his mind. He dreaded the eventual reality of his marriage to Song Jihye. The company and shares were at stake, their family’s reputation.  
  
(He tried to repeat the sentiments of his mother in his head; maybe it would make it easier for him to accept it.)  
  
On top of that, Yukwon seemed to be more careful with him this time, and he felt like the blonde was holding back. He had also lost some weight, which worried Daehyun endlessly.  
  
He thought it would take time to earn back his trust, and he ventured on.  
  
On most days, Daehyun greeted the rays of the sun in Yukwon’s bed. He could see that it surprised his lover, but Yukwon stayed mum. It made Daehyun feel a little unwanted, a bit insecure, but Yukwon never told him to leave again, not after that first day.  
  
Yukwon hadn’t spoken to him after that, not really.  
  
Daehyun tried to make up for it.  
  
A visit of his for dinner had made Yukwon choke up when he came home; there were two sets of cutlery set, the candles lighting the small dining room, Yukwon’s favorite food prepared on the table. “What did I do to deserve this?” The blonde murmured, seemingly unaware that he said it aloud.  
  
Daehyun laughed quietly, and Yukwon blushed. “You’re… you’re just you.”  
  
He kissed Yukwon, held him like he was something that can be easily broken; something that he wanted to protect, something that he loved.  
  
Love.  
  
He hadn’t come to terms with it yet. Daehyun never said anything, but he thought that maybe he should begin to. He wasn’t sure, but when was he ever?  
  
“I love you.”  
  
Daehyun felt Yukwon stiffen on his chest. He stroked the elegant curling of ink on Yukwon’s shoulder, where his new tattoo lay. The blonde had told him that he had always admired Arabic tattoos, and decided to get one. When asked what it meant, Yukwon had said, To the moon and back.  
  
(“I always liked what it meant. To the moon and back. Far and wide. Infinite, everlasting.”)  
  
“To the moon and back,” Daehyun mumbled in his ear, pressing his lips to his temple. He didn’t really expect an answer.  
  
He didn’t have the right to get an answer.  
  
The wedding was fast approaching, and it felt like a ticking time-bomb at the back of his mind. Some nights had to be spent at home, doing arrangements for the wedding. Thursday, particularly. His mother insisted that he be there, to not embarrass the family that his fiancée was the only one doing the work. Each time Jihye paid him a visit, he would feel more and more burdened. The woman, if anything, was only mildly business minded about their ordeal. Daehyun could sense that she had wanted to make this work, but he knew she needed his help.  
  
He could never say that doing so was a waste of his time, and that he would rather be somewhere else, preferably in Yukwon’s flat, bundled up against the couch and watching television.  
  
That room had been his home for the past few months, more than the mansion will ever be.  
  
The lights in the drawing room were elegantly shining against their pristine marble floors. Jihye’s heels click-clacked as she approached him, and Daehyun covered the keys of the grand piano, turning to greet her with a small nod.  
  
It was 8:05pm on a Thursday, he had checked the grandfather clock on the wall – just in time.  
  
-  
  
Alone in his apartment, Yukwon stared at his plastic wall clock in silence, the television droning, unnoticed. 8:06pm. It was surprisingly chilly, but he attributed it to the fact that he was lacking one person in this room. Daehyun was probably back home – he always made it a point to leave the room to arrive at 8:00pm in their mansion once a week. They had never spoken about it, and Yukwon never asked.  
  
He wasn’t sure if he wanted to know why.  
  
He dared not ask when the wedding was.  
  
It was probably soon.  
  
Yukwon made to stand and took his keys. It was time for a walk.  
  
-  
  
“You got another tattoo?” Daehyun asked, earning him a hum. The skin was still red around the edges of Yukwon’s inner arm. They were lying in bed, the cramped space getting more comfortable the longer they stayed, oddly enough.  
  
It’s in Japanese, this time. The storm will pass, Yukwon read in a quiet voice, and Daehyun paused.  
  
“It’s… it’s lovely,” the brunette said, a lump in his throat.  
  
“Thank you.”  
  
-  
  
They went on a drive today, to Yukwon’s surprise. Though he didn’t mind staying in his apartment when he’s with Daehyun, a little time out was also nice. “Where are we going?”  
  
“It’s a surprise,” Daehyun repeated what he had told him earlier.  
  
Daehyun had taken him to a ‘simple’ dinner, as he mildly put it, in an expensive restaurant with food that he could barely pronounce. Yukwon had also tried to reason with him that he was fine with homemade food, fast food, even, but spending on him like this was making him feel guilty.  
  
“Why would you feel guilty?” The younger asked after being firm with his decision of taking Yukwon out to dinner because he had told him that he deserved it. “It’s my gift to you, so relax,” Daehyun told him nonchalantly, taking a sip of the champagne with the price tag that made Yukwon wince.  
  
“But –“  
  
“Yukwon, please?” Daehyun cut him off, with a small smile, showing him his doe eyes, and nudging his leg lightly with his. “Just for tonight, let me spoil you.” With that, Yukwon crumbled, nibbling on his food, causing Daehyun to nudge him again to make him eat some more.  
  
After dinner, the younger had suggested that they take a drive, and Yukwon agreed. The short trip was to an executive village, and Yukwon’s heard of the name somewhere, and knew that it housed the city’s elite. “This place is lovely.”  
  
“I’m glad you like it,” Daehyun squeezed his hand. He hadn’t let go since they got on his sleek black Audi, driving into the suburb village. It made Daehyun look like the missing piece of this big puzzle – the way he talked, the way he acted, the way he dressed – every single thing he did made it seem like he belonged here, with the kind of luxury cars, the townhouses. Yukwon couldn’t help but think that he was the one who’s out of this picturesque view. Daehyun pressed a kiss to the back of Yukwon’s hand, making him focus on the road instead of his gnarled thoughts. “Let me show you something.”  
  
“Oh?”  
  
They pulled up next to the gates of a simple house, smaller compared to the rest of the properties inside the village, but not less elegant. White fences guard the perimeter, and rising from it was a two floor abode, beautifully painted white. “Is this yours? It’s lovely, Daehyun-ah…”  
  
The younger gave him a soft chuckle, stepping out of the car and taking his hand again after he’d gone out with him. “Let’s go inside.” Daehyun opened the gates to a well-kept garden in front of the house – he must have hired someone to keep it neatly trimmed. Flowers grew on the bushes beside the door, making the place appear homey. His lover pushed the door open for him, letting him in first and switching on the lights.  
  
Inside was a modernly designed home: sleek and simple. It would be something that Yukwon would choose if he had the chance to get his own house. White leather couches adorned the living room, a flat screen television, and a fireplace against the painted wall, appearing clean and bright. The connected kitchen had an island, an oven, complete with high-end utensils that a chef would be glad use. Two metal cushioned chairs were tucked neatly from under the island. A small guest’s bathroom was placed at the end of the room.  
  
“Wow,” Yukwon said in awe, his eyes scanning every corner of the first floor.  
  
Daehyun smiled happily. “Yeah? Let’s go upstairs.”  
  
The staircase was made of light wood, Yukwon and Daehyun’s footprints echoing in the quiet house. From the landing, two rooms can be seen: the main bathroom, complete with a glass room for a shower and a porcelain tub that can fit more than two people comfortably; and a closed door, which Yukwon thought would be the master bedroom. The younger approached the door and opened it, revealing a king sized bed with stark white sheets, along with a duvet and soft pillows. There was a dresser, and beside it was a sliding door overlooking the rest of the houses in the village: a balcony with a coffee table and two chairs. The city lights shine bright upon them, the moon filtering in the otherwise dark room.  
  
“Oh.”  
  
Daehyun stroked his back, his hand slipping under the back of Yukwon’s shirt. “Do you mind if we stay here the night?” He said in his ear, and he couldn’t suppress the shudder that went up his spine.  
  
It was beautiful.  
  
“I don’t belong here,” he mumbled, voicing the thought that had come to him after the night began, his eyes trained on the flawless yet simple interior.  
  
Daehyun pressed a kiss to his ear, to the side of his neck, wrapping his arms around his waist. “You are the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”  
  
Yukwon felt heat high on his cheeks. “Are you sure? Are you – you don’t mind? It’s a beautiful place, Daehyun, but I don’t think I should –“  
  
“Shh,” the younger murmured, stroking his hips. “Calm down, love. Just one night.”  
  
He really did want to spoil him tonight. And as always, Yukwon felt he could never say no to Jung Daehyun. “Alright,” Yukwon breathily replied, succumbing once more to his lover’s request.  
  
-  
  
“This house suits you,” Daehyun smiled against his skin, the morning light flitting through the curtains. It had almost scared him that he would be spending the morning alone once Daehyun leaves like he did before, but he was there, tucked beside him, radiating warmth.  
  
He didn’t think the house suited him. He was tired and weary, and the house was energetic, glad to be alive, happy. “I think it suits you more than me,” he told him, running his fingers through his hair and not missing the way Daehyun’s eyes closed, looking comfortable.  
  
“I think we should stay here more often then,” the younger said quietly, cracking an eye open. Yukwon blinked back at him, once, twice – “It’s just for the two of us, Yukwon. Just for us.”  
  
Yukwon had to admit that it was his dream, really, to live with Daehyun. It would be amazing to wake up with him in the morning, every day, make breakfast for him, spend time with him, welcome him home after work –  
  
It was everything he’d ever wanted. But Yukwon knew it was all a lie.  
  
“I…”  
  
“Alright,” Daehyun mumbled, lying back down on the bed. “I’ll give you time to think about it.”  
  
Yukwon bit on his lip. “But… what about my apartment –“  
  
“Yes,” the younger said victoriously, enveloping him in a tight hug and giving him a deep kiss that made him breathless. Daehyun’s smile was contagious, and Yukwon found himself returning his joy.  
  
Lies.  
  
“I’ll take care of everything.”  
  
And Daehyun did.  
  
-  
  
Yukwon stayed at the rest house (it’s what he called it) more often than Daehyun did, because Daehyun had a fulltime job and had other obligations (he never asked, but he knew). Little by little, he got used to the space that he, they, had, and he found himself moving around the house more comfortably, as if it really was his and Daehyun’s.  
  
Coming off from his job at the record store and going home by bus to the village, he set dinner every night, for two. Every night, Daehyun was there, laughing with him, talking to him, and if he got home earlier than expected, they make love.  
  
Each day, he fell for him, more and more.  
  
It was everything that he wanted in his life: a cure for his seemingly eternal loneliness, a person who had wanted him despite his every flaw, someone that he loved right back.  
  
Yukwon got a slap of reality at least once a week – Thursday at eight, each time – when Daehyun leaves him before the clock tells him it’s time, and Yukwon barely sleeps, each time. The moment Daehyun’s presence leaves the room, all of the biting thoughts return to him.  
  
You will never be good enough for Daehyun. He still hasn’t left his fiancée, and he will still marry her and leave you alone. He won’t see you anymore when they get married. It’s already wrong that he’s seeing you.  
  
He hadn’t realized he had fallen asleep and had woken up in cold sweat. Reaching for his phone, he checked the time: 2:57am, and no messages. He comforted himself that it’s already Friday, and Daehyun will be home soon.  
  
It was just something that he needed to get used to.  
  
Right?


	4. My Heart is Open

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Nothing's changed.

He held her hand as they walked the city shops, their boots crunching against the hardened snow. He saw her shiver and he tucked her inside her jacket – the one he bought for her – and fixed her scarf so that it covered half of her face.

She smiled at him, her eyes crinkling at the sides and he kissed her forehead before continuing to walk to the park.

The slides and the metal bars were caked with snow, but he took his pride and joy there anyway. She was all that he had.

The sad, slow sound of the church bells and the prayers beside the graveyard gave him shivers more than the gushing of the cold winter wind.

Her laughter was muffled by her pink scarf and he let his daughter run the remaining steps to the swings. He followed with a small smile on his face, reminding her to watch her steps. He can’t lose her, too.

He’s already lost so much.

The swings creaked as she attempted to ride it, the chains rickety from winter’s relentless bite. She managed to push herself from the ground to the sky within minutes, and he thought: that’s his girl, always getting what she wants.

Just like her mother.

He sighed, standing behind the swing to guard her back – just in case.

Her squeals of delight were music to his ears. Eventually, she grew tired, resting in his arms as he walked them back to their apartment. They’ve left the mansion, despite his in-laws’ protests; but some things should be left behind.

(A cold room, a cold home. A cold body buried below mounds and mounds of snow.)

She looked for her mother a few times. She was four; how could she understand that sometimes, the doors of heaven opened and the people you love entered, and never went back? He had broken it to her gently, in the simplest way he could: Mommy’s gone, Minah.

(“She went to heaven with the angels.”

“… She’s not coming back, appa?”

“No, baby.”)

She cried a lot. He couldn’t remember being hurt that much – unless he counted the day that _he_ left, but he thought, some things needed to be buried in mounds and mounds of snow.

_This was ridiculous,_ he scolded himself as he entered the warmth of the nearby cafe, opening the door with difficulty, his back to it as he pushed; Minah was getting heavier and bigger, but she liked being in his arms. He liked her close to him as well; this way, he could hold her and protect her from the world. The weight of the glass door lessened as he presumed someone helped him with it, and when he opened his mouth to say thank you to the stranger, the words died in his throat upon meeting familiar eyes.

“Daehyun…”

He blinked, his lips still parted, his heart racing. “… Yukwon.”

Yukwon looked like he wanted to throw up. Did he hate him that much? He closed the door behind him and Yukwon stared at his daughter, his eyes appearing glassy. He must know that it was his wife’s daughter in his arms, and Daehyun’s heart clenched on itself.

_It’s been five years, but somehow…_

“Nothing’s changed,” Yukwon breathed, looking so fragile that Daehyun was afraid that the wind would break him.

“Yes,” he murmured without thinking – but in truth, everything had changed in half a decade. The words that he had wanted Yukwon to hear for the past five years didn’t touch his tongue.

_Where have you been? I looked for you everywhere. Why did you run away?_

_Why didn’t you wait for me?_

“How – how are you?” He asked, shifting Minah’s weight in his arms. Only then, somehow, did Yukwon come to his senses and led him to a nearby booth, his eyes never leaving his daughter’s form and he couldn’t seem to meet Daehyun’s eyes. All the while, Daehyun stared at him like he was something that he’d never seen before – that, or if he looked away, Yukwon would be gone.

Yukwon was as pale as a sheet. “I – Never better,” he managed, sitting across him, looking determined to keep his distance.

Daehyun heard a soft yawn in his ear and he rubs his daughter’s back. The man across him stared with wide eyes as Minah straightened up, taking in her surroundings and turning to face the stranger.

He knew what Yukwon was thinking she has –

“Your eyes,” Yukwon whispered as Minah blinked at him sleepily, resting her head on her father’s shoulder.

“Appa… who is this?”

Daehyun licked his chapped lips. He needed to be careful with his answer. “This is appa’s… old friend. Kim Yukwon.”

Minah eyed the new person shyly and Daehyun saw Yukwon’s eyes soften, giving his daughter a small smile. “Hello... what’s your name?”

“Jung Minah.”

Yukwon pursed his lips and nodded, saying, “It’s nice to meet you, Minah.”

“You’re appa’s friend?” She asked, sitting on Daehyun’s lap and looking at the man across them curiously. Yukwon gave a careful nod, and something inside Daehyun unhinged. He swallowed, his mouth suddenly dry and he realized that his daughter was looking at him expectantly. The air was thick with tension and Daehyun cleared his throat, looking down at Minah. “Are you hungry, princess?”

“Mm!”

“I’ll get her something,” Yukwon said quickly, sliding out of the booth to fall in line, not looking at the pair. Daehyun’s knees felt weak and he leaned on the couch for support, Minah resting against him calmly. She seemed to be at ease with Yukwon, which wasn’t common for her and strangers. He didn’t know if that was a good thing.

He didn’t want to remember the day Yukwon disappeared, but the memory resurfaced anyway.

\--

Yukwon can’t help but stare at the girl before him – a spitting image of her mother, but with her father’s eyes. He looked at her so much that he had to excuse himself to buy them something to eat; half to make an escape from the girl’s father’s prying eyes, and half to give himself a breather.

_He’s here. Again. He’s really here._

He was there a minute too late. Yukwon was about to leave the café after getting himself something warm to drink to fight the cold, but he was a minute too late in leaving the small shop. It was as if fate mocked him – he shouldn’t have gone back in town in the first place.

Memories flooded him unwillingly. The girl, Minah, was the living proof of Daehyun’s marriage to Jihye. The million-dollar question rests on his tongue heavily: where’s Jihye?

He hoped Daehyun and Jihye hadn’t argued again. Back when things were at their peak for him and Daehyun, they had fought a lot. (Idly, he wondered if Jihye knew about him, if he was a part of why they hadn’t gotten along well.) Minah seemed like a sweet girl, even to strangers, and he wondered if Jihye was like that. He had never met the woman personally, just seeing her in pictures and news articles that reported about their family business and fundraisers. Daehyun was of a prominent family as well, and he couldn’t imagine what brought him and the man together in the past.

Everything had changed now.

“Yukwon,” Daehyun said once he was back with their food and drinks, carefully, slowly, as if he was a small animal afraid of him, so scared that he’d run away – which, in hindsight, he did – “Do you… are you still staying here?”

Yukwon slid their food to them, his lips set on a thin line. He hid himself for five years only to come back to the same place he ran from. He should have known that they’ll eventually run into each other and just stayed away. “Just… just this week, for the holidays,” he answered, gazing at the steam billowing from the cups instead of Daehyun’s dark brown eyes. His brother Yushin had wanted him home, and he had missed Korea, after all. Japan was beautiful, but it didn’t compare to home.

He watched Minah nibble on the small pastry that he bought for her, catching her eye. _His eyes._

He cleared his throat, deciding to ask the less harmful question: “How old are you, Minah?”

He watched the little girl lift her open hand, her four fingers raised. “Four.” Daehyun looked at her fondly and reached out to brush her hair out of her face. He was always so loving –

_Stop._

He offered Minah a smile, wondering where this afternoon would take him if he stayed any longer.

He needed to go.

\--

Daehyun remembered the door shutting behind Yukwon and his huge suitcase, marching out of their house one night, five years ago.

He knew it was his fault. If only he had left Jihye earlier, Yukwon would never have left him. But leaving Jihye meant leaving his family and responsibility to the business as well, and he could never turn his back on his family, no matter the conditions they’ve put him in.

If he had left Jihye five years ago, he never would have had Minah. He wouldn’t trade her for the world.

(He didn’t blame Yukwon for hating him at all. It was his decision.)

Yukwon had gotten him his favourite drink – an Americano, and he was surprised that he cared to remember – and Minah hot chocolate and pastry.

The silence was unsettling, and Yukwon refused to look at him still. He had aged, but beautifully so – his blonde hair was now dark brown, his fringe almost falling down to his eyes. He was thinner, even paler than before.

“Where’s –“ Yukwon started, and he felt his heart rate pick up. The other gnawed on his lower lip, as if scolding himself for raising the question that they were both waiting to hear.

Minah, thankfully, hadn’t noticed. “Appa!” She called, pointing to the window.

Fresh snow fell from the sky and Minah smiled widely. “Let’s go outside!”

“But Minah, Uncle Yukwon –“

“It’s fine,” Yukwon cut him off, replacing the cover of his paper cup and sealing it shut. “I’ll just –“

“Come with us!” Minah chirped, her eyes shining and Daehyun let out a soft, hidden sigh. He was hoping for that, but at the same time he was dreading what could happen once Yukwon and he collide.

“I – “ Yukwon began, looking at Minah and then, finally, at him. After a few moments, he breathed, “… Alright.”

Minah squealed and slid off the booth, and he only managed to call out to her to stay put as he took his coffee and her pastry and put the snack inside her small bag. He followed her outside, glancing at Yukwon just to see if he was following suit, and he was.

Opening the door for his daughter, he took her hand to keep her from running as they waited for their companion.

-

He hugged his pillow tight like a lifeline the first night he spent away from the place where they were truly happy. Yukwon’s frail body trembled into the night, cold with sobs and soft cries of pain.

It was entirely too cold.

He knew that he was something that he can never have. He shouldn’t have let him in anyway, despite the obvious warnings, the tell-tale signs. He _knew_. For the first night he met him, he knew.

“Yukwon, he’s married,” he had told himself weakly a few times.

He tried not to picture Daehyun’s face when he sees the house he purchased for them barren. He won’t be there to open the door to greet him anymore; he won’t be there to kiss him, to welcome him home.

(It wasn’t even his home in the first place. But in his heart, he knew he wanted Daehyun to belong there.)

He breathed in shakily. The new house was beautiful, but at the end of it all, he was still on his own.

Why didn't you pick me?  
  
The pain was searing. It was unlike anything he's ever felt before, and his insides are burned. He's never felt so tired, so powerless. He wanted to scream.  
  
Why, why didn't you pick me?  
  
He was tired to the roots of his very being, in his bones, in his mind and in his soul. Every day dragged on and he was losing control; he's spiraling down, down, down.  
  
He was drowning.  
  
Why didn't you come after me?  
  
Why did you believe that I was okay?  
  
He was shattered; pieces of himself that he didn't know that could hurt demanded to be felt. It didn't matter how many nights out he went with his friends, how much money he made from his new job - he always came home hollow - if this place were to be called a home.  
  
("We'll have a home one day, far away from here," he had said.)  
  
Then, everything was cold. His insides were numb and he breathed through his blue lips.  
  
He turned his back to the window where light slit through the blinds. Time to go back to sleep.

-

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Back after a year... I decided to just go with it. Happy Holidays everyone!


End file.
